Chapter Text
I wanted to pull her to my body and kiss her tonight before she left the Batcave.
It was hard to keep myself under control, but with strong discipline, I succeeded in not standing too close to her.
Just. Barely.
How much longer I can control myself and my actions, well, I can't actually say.
Of course, I know she's had a kind of hero-worship fixation on me, and until now I had it all under tight control.
God, so tight, just like her seemingly painted-on costume fits her so perfectly.
It's some type of supple fabric that stretches snugly across her curves.
I see much more than I should when she wears it, and it brings me too many dark and dangerous fantasies, fantasies that involve abolishing my self-control and doing all manner of salacious things to her.
I imagine tasting her blushing lip gloss.
Kissing those moist-looking lips.
Exploring her mouth with mine.
Ripping away her thin flimsy costume.
Touching, tormenting her bare skin.
I understand that the consensual age is 17 in Gotham...
How old is she now, anyway, 17, 18?
Does she wear those innocent-looking pastel-colored underwear, I wonder, as my cock hardens.
Is it cotton or lace?
Silk or nylon?
I do like silk, it feels so soft and warm to the touch.
Is she still innocent and intact, I wonder?
Has she already had her first kiss, first feel, first . . .
No!
It's completely inappropriate, she's a kid for God's sake!
I need a cold shower...
or better yet, a good hard wank in the shower.
While thinking of her.
Nude, revealed, ready to learn.
She's already learned volumes from our training.
I could educate her in the ways of Tantric Sex.
Or the Kama Sutra.
I've learned from the best.
I could...
I could...
Oh, God!
My cock is spurting all over my fist.
Shit, she's going to notice if I have an erection around her even with my jock armor.
My senses are still excited, more, I need more!
I get a bathrobe and switch on the computer, shuffling to the recordings folder, scanning for any footage of her in the cave.
I zoom in and stare at her tits and those hardened little nips of hers as I slide my hand faster and faster.
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I use my bathrobe to mop up.
I feel terrible for harboring thoughts like these.
Then, I imagine those solid nipples of hers in my mouth as I stroke and lick and tease her until she whimpers.
I want to kiss her for several long consecutive minutes.
In my mind, she's breathless and gasping, but she doesn't pull away from me.
I quickly strip her naked and lay her on the gym mat as I tease and touch her.
She moans, eyes half-closed.
GOD!
Maybe I do need a fast fuck from someone, it's never hard for me to find a willing partner, and besides, I can't possibly see her again tomorrow in this uncomfortable condition.
I need this badly, I'm desperate.
I dress and hit the clubs downtown.
I scope out a joint and find a pretty redhead sitting alone at the bar.
I walk over and ask, "Mind if I join you for a drink?"
As she turns her barstool toward me and smiles, I blanch, shocked.
It's her, it's Barbara, what the hell is she doing here?
Does she carry a fake ID card?
I look down.
She's having a can of soda, and I'm feeling immediately relieved.
"Uh, I'm so sorry, I thought you might be someone else," I manage to say, leaving out saying 'someone older'. I get up to leave
"Wait, I know you!" she says brightly, with recognition.
What? I've got to think fast...
"You're my father's friend, it's Bruce Wayne, right?"
"Uh, yes, I was surprised to see you here, " I manage to answer while trying not to stutter.